18 Years Later. . .

Ifé.

The moon, like a knight of light, set the darkened sky with its face ablaze. The view of the ancient Oyo Empire–A well-enriched town ruled by 5 Giants is the capital territory of the Western part of Nigeria but, unfortunately, faces the same fate as Odo-Ara. Mounted on an island, it bridged somewhere unknown, the city wall to the rest of the world. 

It was a moonrise to the full moon. The night wind hit the air violently, while the birds cried in the sky. Unable to sleep. Unable to settle in their dusty nests. Most trees were dry and lifeless, while the others took the leafy ones down and burned them into ashes in the form of firewood. 

‘Craw! Craw! Craaaaawww!’

‘Craaaa! Craw! Craaaaaa!’

‘Craw! Craw! Craaaaawww!’

The homeless birds croaked to the sound of vultures, ground hornbills, ravens, owls, and bats mixed with the faint voices of people partying in the gods’ hall–Shrine. Two women in particular entertained the gathering. Their voices were carried sweetly upon the gentle breeze. The people were celebrating the tenth millennium since giants started ruling in Ife, Oyo-Ile. Ten millennia of their reign and tenure. 

The low hum of melodious drum beatings filled the air. Rhythmic songs and dancing steps accompanied the chime of tingles of the night. The fire crackled in mighty calabashes hung on artistic stands and the rust chains that held them from edge to edge showed that the Yoruba people practiced a rich religion and also believed in it. They believed the Giants were godsent from the heavens and each of the Giants represented parts of the gods and deities who mediate between the creator and humanity.

They served as pillars between the heaven and Earth. In their Chambers, Rothonyhr, Larike, Sosan, and Ase raised their bronze goblets to their lips. Servants filled their plates and cups with more food and wine. As it was, a big white curtain divided the giant’s room from the rest of the hall. 

In the middle of the hall were the bàtá drummers, the dancers glorifying the Yoruba culture and others paying respects to the gods. The group of women who were dancing included some young teenage girls and other married women with tribal marks on their faces; They had taken all of them from different territories of Yorubaland and made them entertainment tools for the giants.  

With music flowing in the background, a lady with big cowrie earrings grabbed a knife from the table of her master and held it behind the ears of the beer jug in her hand. Then, she handed it over to a charming man who hung a drum over his shoulder. On him was simple navy-blue admire trousers with white-clay markings on his body. 

“Prince Yotifa, who exactly is the fifth god?” She started.

“You mean Tesse? I heard Ase killed her centuries ago out of jealousy that his brothers would keep her to themselves. Tesse–the goddess of love and fertility and Ase–the god of war and death are twins. She was the only female goddess. What do you expect?”

A fake smile appeared on both their faces as they glanced around with curiosity. Their faces dropped to seriousness; a little sweaty and oily, but no one cared.

“They’re all getting drunk,” Asa whispered to Prince Yotifa, who walked right behind her. Asa was a beautiful average-height lady with the fit body of a warrior. Her skin was of golden bronze and her hair a voluminous bun of soft curls.

“Get the girls into position and be careful.” Prince Yotifa warned.

“I’d be careful.” She smiled as they parted ways. 

Asa and some other girls dressed in colorful attire followed her to the giant’s chamber. They were all drunk and relaxed. The human servants carried large pots on their heads, filling the cups for the semi-gods. Asa watched as the servants did this with utmost care. Rothonyhr, the god of Fire and Thunder, and Larike, the god of ice and lightning grabbed a handful of slaves and cut out their heads. Throwing the bodies into the fire, Larike grabbed the human bodies and roasted them in the fire like skewered beef or rather, skewered human meat. All slaves die, anyway. The giants cared less and humans to them had no use, especially the slaves.

While dining, Ase took off his cap made of Mosaaji; the royal fabric that shines like the stars. Only the families of the king and high-positioned chiefs wore such luxurious clothing. However, Ase emptied his wine cup with the last gulp of wine and heaved out heavily. 

“How unfortunate we are? How unfortunate it is? That despite all the glory, fame, and riches. Despite all the respect earned from the human race; as descendants of the gods, we have no partner. Doesn’t that disturb you?” He flinched against the mighty goblets, which were tiny cups, in front of him.

The surrounding humans scattered. A couple of servants died with just that, while others survived through injury. The injured find their way out while the dead are roasted again. 

“Yeah, but that’s what makes us different, isn’t it?” Larike replied, intoxicated. 

Ase, instead of crisping the other slaves, his strong fingers picked them up one by one and dropped them into his wine.

Their spirits soared when Ase picked one from them. The slaves squeezed their eyes shut and bowed their heads in fear, chanting what seemed to be their last prayers. They were all ready for death, yet, they weren't. It could be anyone.

“I feel guilty.”

“You must, brother! It’s been a millennium since you killed Tesse. Anyway, what is left of her is her spirit trapped outside this island? Let’s hope Ododuwa brings her back to us. Or send forth someone else to represent Oshun. You can ask your mother, Yemoja.”

“She won’t reply to me, Rothonyhr. She now sees me as an outcast. In my sleep, she usually appears, but she doesn’t listen to my words. I know I have step-backs, but...”

“Exercise patient. She’s your mother, after all. Little by little, the pig's nose enters the yard. She’d soon give in to your plea.” Rothonyhr lamented. “Why don’t you ask Shango, Oshun, or Orunla? They’ll hear you out.”

“Who is closer to Oshun than my mother?”

At that moment, Ase inclined slightly toward one girl, who appeared to be older than the others.

“And who are you?” His guttural voice snapped and his eyes met with hers. Like a force of nature, she wires a fierce smirk.

Ase blinked in disbelief and pulled closer.

The elderly woman spat into her palms. A quick burst of wind blew through as her voice echoed in the room. The gentle night breeze caressed the atmosphere with her honeyed words.

“Burning fire from the heart of hunters and smiths! I summon all the Giants to drop asleep! Burning fire from the heart of hunters and smiths!” The woman repeated her chant thrice, her bold voice heightened amidst the background noise of the drum beats.

Ireti flung her arms into the air and dark clouds billowed out around her. The burning lanterns died from her presence. Sparks of black fire flamed through her body in a gust of wind.

Every other human shut their eyes except the giants. They weren't affected by her act. Ase looked around vacantly, then turned back at Rothonyhr. They bursted out into laughter. Only Larike and Sosan were asleep from the effect of the wine and its intoxication.

He gestured towards her with his hand, and she responded with a clap before vanishing from his sight. “Where’s she? What’s happening?” He asked Rothonyhr who looked around in a confused manner as well. Their enormous eyes searched the space as if searching for a tiny fly.

She appeared in the other corner of the room and did the same thing. But before she could clap and disappear again, Ase pinned her to the ground with his index finger.

“Magic doesn’t work on Giants, wrench! Who sent you?”

Ireti tried to free herself from Ase’s grip but couldn’t even move. She grunted painfully, as tears poured out of her eyes in regret. If these semi-gods had one rule, “No one escapes the giants.” And she knew something for sure. That he might end up eating her or brewing her like tea leaves.

Rothonyhr looked closer while Ase held her up to see. Although she looked great without makeup, her fat legs swung helplessly as she looked up at them. Still hoping to get revenge. Ase had eaten all her children, her husband died in battle.

“She’s Iretiola, an old witch.” Yotifa introduced and dropped to his knees. “Please my Lord, I beg for mercy. Don’t kill her.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” He frowned at the plea.

“Because she might still be of use to you, Your Grace,” Yotifa begged, in a bow.

“I don’t need witches!”

“She is quite bold. Reminds me of Tesse.” Rothonyhr cut in.

Ase rolled his eyes at his brother, still pissed. “That won’t stop me from chewing her bones. She’s of no use!”

“What if I keep her as my little toy? She’s just an old witch, anyway.” Rothonyhr suggested.

“Do you need more wine, my Lord?” Prince Yotifa who directed the other slaves, suddenly asked.

“No, it’s enough! This little woman has made me lose interest!” He threw her down remorselessly. “And where is she from... This old witch?”

“She’s a slave brought from Odo-Ara ten years ago.”

“I don’t need old witches in my chamber. The young and able men and women are enough.” He instructed. “I don’t need toys either.”

His dark, gruesome eyes rolled at his brother.

“Okay, my lord.” Yotifa bowed to Ase in full respect before he pulled back.

He looked up, and suddenly the room was as bright as day when a sharp beam of light burst from her right hand, held high above her head like a symbol of liberty. Looking at it, Ase and Rothonyhr’s eyes twitched and trembled. Not only both of them but Sosan and Larike also had the same experience as well.

As if being struck by lightning from above. They raised their eyes towards the light, unable to shout out to the electric shock. As if it took their voices, their powers, and their strength. The giants’ faces froze to the extreme shock that took over them.

Meanwhile, the others buried their faces to the ground in fear. Suddenly, Iretiola dropped her hand and the eye-blinding light went off. The Giants dropped back to the ground, unconscious.

“What?” Yotifa raised his gaze to her. “What have you done?”

“We should drag their bodies into the dungeon before sunrise.” She hissed at the prince and adjusted her clothes.

“I know we have a plan, but killing them isn’t part of it? We’ve been through a lot. The gods would forsake us! You electrocuted them!”

“That was Plan B, my prince. Perhaps magic doesn’t work on Giants. I had to come up with a backup plan for our sake; for our safety.” She held the golden egg in her hands and walked out of the chamber.

“Whatever, we don’t have enough time. Okay guys, now, let’s drag these bodies into the dungeon. They’re temporarily asleep, not dead so, let’s be snappy about it!” Yotifa instructed the other servants.

Immediately, the slaves tied thick, long ropes around their mighty legs and started pushing and pulling. It took about twenty hefty men to move one body. 

While these things were happening in the giants' chamber, none of the settlers were aware. They treated the indigenes as Kings and chiefs, while the giants were the mouthpiece of the gods.

Facing the crowd, a group of men burst out into such boisterous laughter that Iretiola and Prince Yotifa felt irritated. The both of them realized how drunk most of the chiefs were. The only active ones were the slaves, out of which ninety percent were from Odo-Ara.

“What is the next plan, my prince?”

“I don’t know for now, but there would be a bloodbath. Use your magic tonight if necessary. We’d be taking over Ifé. Are you ready?”

“I was born ready.” A smirk spread across her chapped lips while her hand held the golden treasure to her side.

Translations

*Bàtá: The bàtá drumming, singing, and dancing tradition of the Yorùbá has been described as one of the most prominent markers of pan-Yorùbá culture. Bàtá drummers’ skills are closely associated with the old Yorùbá religion of Òrìṣà worship. In religious rites, bàtá drummers recite the biographies and histories of the Òrìṣà and direct prayers to them.

*Adire: (Yoruba: tie and dye) textile is the indigo-dyed clothes made in southwestern Nigeria by Yoruba women, using a variety of resist-dyeing techniques.

*Oyo-Ile is now called Oyo State. One out of the 36 States of Nigeria.

*Ifé: Capital of Oyo-Ile in the olden days.

Any more questions, simply do a Google search on its meaning. Thanks for reading.